You Have Been Disconnected

I am disjointed am frag m e n t ed. I do not exist on this plane or the next. My legs swing off the edge of a cloud sitting side by side with cherubs and I watch myself as if I am a storybook character, an actress on the silver screen or an Ansel Adams still. Someone else lives my life. They speak my lines and sleep in my Egyptian cotton sheets. They stole my voice, and with a disposable camera, captured my face, making it theirs. Blinking green light. Broken battery symbol. Power down. You have been disconnected. Written by Riencuran